


Night Will Fall (And Drown The Sun)

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: All shall be revealved, Angst, Doctor Who References, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Kidnapping, Mystery, Not Canon Compliant, Superpowers, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, minor fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7004206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had to protect her, that's all she had to do. Protect her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be revising? Yes  
> Am I? Nope.   
> Did I need to start _yet_ another FitzSimmons AU? Nope.  
>  Have I? Yep.  
> This one is based on A Good Man Goes To War, one of my fav Doctor Who eps. Hope you enjoy this, and thanks for all the support!

As soon as he had opened the door, he blinked, raising his arms instinctively, showing that he was not here to hurt her. “Jemma,” he said, trying to meet her eyes to show her that he meant no harm. But she wouldn’t. She just fixed her stare on the scalpel, holding it inches from Ward’s face. He cursed the nurse who had left it there. There was a rule that there was nothing metal allowed in the room. So how it had gotten there was a mystery to him. “We’ve talked about this.” There was a hint of exasperation to his voice.

She raised her eyebrow, allowing the scalpel to drop on the ground, the metal rattling, filling the ever growing between them. She turned, keeping her left side from him. “Have we? I have no recollection of that conversation.”

He sighed, allowing his hands to drop back to his side. “I’m unarmed Jemma, you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Or your daughter.” And it was at that moment that Ward knew that he had overstepped the mark. “Jemma,” he tried again but to no avail.

She had turned away, bouncing the child held to her left side up and down, trying to soothe her before she started crying again. She had been trying all afternoon, but couldn’t seem to settle her. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice soft and gentle. “It’s okay, Pegs.” But that didn’t work, the young child started crying.

There were footsteps, causing her to spin. Ward stopped in his tracks, raising his arms again to show that he had no ill intent. “Jemma please,” he was all but begging. It was true, he _did_ mean no harm to her and her daughter.

“Then let me leave,” she demanded. “Let me go home.”

Ward closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. He couldn’t let her leave. “Jemma, we need you here.”

“For what? I’ve been here months and…” she couldn’t finish, tears were starting to streak down her face, and she was trying to catch her breath. She was still bouncing her daughter, trying to settle her but nothing was working her. She closed her eyes, mirroring what Ward had done, before pinching the bridge of her nose, an action that did not mirror Ward, but her husband. “Please,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I can’t do that.”

Jemma shook her head, turning away from him and walked up the stairs of her room. It was a larger room, spilt into two levels, with the upper level having simply a bed, a cot and a small bookcase (as per Jemma’s demand), with a staircase, pressed against the wall, on either side of the circular room leading up to it. She allowed one hand to trail along the railing which wrapped from one staircase, went along the end of the upper layer, and down the other. Plastic, of course it would be plastic. What else would it be? Since Ward had implemented the no metal rule after what had happened all of those months ago after the incident. She shuddered to think of it, and threw it from her mind as she tried to settle a still crying Peggy.

“But I will,” he said, trying another tactic. “One day.”

Jemma, now sitting on the bed, both her and Peggy wrapped in a blanket, looked up at him. He was moving again, trying to make his way up the stairs. Towards them. Towards _her._ “No,” she all but snarled at him when he was halfway up. He stopped, bit his lip and glared at her. “No.” She repeated again, shifting once more so that her daughter was protected from him.

Before Ward could begin to explain (again, for Jemma didn’t believe him and yet she had every right to) that he meant no harm for them, a massive boom rattled the room, causing dust and plaster to rain down on all of them. Ward tensed, looking at Jemma. What little colour there was left drained away from her, her skin now almost translucent. “This wasn’t me,” he began, but her gaze was focused on the scalpel, something he had forgotten about until that moment. His words, however were lost to her. The cool metal was pressed against the tender skin of his neck. He kept still, holding his breath. He knew he had to be careful here, one wrong move could end in serious injury, or possibly death. “Trust me, it wasn’t me.”

But Jemma didn’t seem to believe it, her gaze fixed upon him more fiercely. Those brown eyes, once full of life now long lost terrified him, a feeling that made Ward uncomfortable. This wasn’t the look of someone wanting revenge, someone wanting answers.

This was the look of a mother wanting to protect her child. And that was something that terrified Ward more than anything he had ever experienced. The cool metal pressed harder against his skin, threatening to pierce the delicate flesh. Another massive boom, an explosion probably, and more plaster rained down.

“Drop it, and I’ll find out what’s wrong, but you have to believe me,” Ward said, slowly and loudly so he could be heard over the cries of her young child.

Reluctantly, Jemma nodded, though every instinct at her, every _maternal_ instinct, was screaming at her not to. But Ward seemed to be telling him the truth, and she allowed the metal to fall.

“Thank you.”

She didn’t reply. Her attention was no longer was on him, but trying to settle her daughter, her restless had grown in pure fear and Jemma could do little to help sooth her. Fear had started to squirm its way into her stomach, and was settling there, refusing to leave.

She momentarily looked over her shoulder, out the massive window that covered the wall behind the bed, and looked down at the Hydra base below. It was simply chaos down there.

That’s when the lights started to flicker, and all calm that was left in Jemma fled her. She rocked back and forth with Peggy when it went dark. And a voice ran through the intercom.

“You’ll have two minutes before we’ll get shut down,” rang a voice that she hadn’t heard in so long.

“Daisy,” she breathed. This couldn’t be real, could it?

“Then let me talk to her!” came the voice that she had wanted to hear for so long, that she was scared that she would never hear again. “Jemma!”

“Fitz!” The tears streaming down her face now. “Fitz.”

“Jemma!” his voice came again. “You can’t hear me, but we’re here. We’re coming for you. We’re rescuing you!”


	2. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next part. I want to say a massive thank you for all the support I have received so far with this fic, it's been amazing and I don't know what I would do without you guys! You are fantastic!!

And then they were gone. Just like that. Hydra must have cut them off, but Jemma didn’t care. The team had found her. After all those months they had found her. She would be going home. Her and Peggy would no longer be prisoners. She had few possessions here with her. Hydra hadn’t given her the luxury of packing a bag when they had kidnapped her nearly 9 months ago now. All she had were the clothes that had been given to her as her pregnancy had progressed, clothes that she would no longer be needing, and then once Peggy had been born clothes to suit her day to day needs. But these clothes wouldn’t be coming with her. She didn’t want to bring them with her. She would much rather burn them than ever wear them again. But she still rummaged through one of the drawers looking for a simple shoebox. It took her a moment to find it, and her heart almost stopped when she couldn’t see it. Peggy stared at her from her hip, still crying but calming now. The explosions had stopped, and there wasn’t gunfire. Which Jemma would find weird later on, that Hydra hadn’t fought back.

When she found the box, she set it on the top of the dresser and walked across the room, talking to her young daughter, soothing her and telling her that they would be going home, that they would no longer be prisoners in this place.

It almost didn’t seem real to her, that they would be leaving this places after so longer, but Jemma was glad to be seeing the back of it. To be able to raise her daughter with her family. What she deserved. But a realisation dawned on Jemma. Other people would be around her daughter. People that she didn’t know. People who didn’t know Peggy and what she liked. Then Jemma knew that she would always have to protect Peggy. Always keep her safe, at least until the world was a safer place. And the first part wouldn’t be too hard. She had kept Peggy with her the first three months of her life. She could do it. The base would require some rearranging but she could deal with that when that matter arose.

Looking in another drawer opposite the one where she kept her clothes, Jemma found what she was looking forward too much more easily. The cellotape that she had stolen on their journey back from their last appointment. The agent who was supposed to be escorting them back had to take a message from Ward, leaving her alone next to the supply closet. She had stolen all that she had deemed to be useful, then made her way back to her room, waiting outside for Ward to let her back in. That had been a week ago, and so far what she had stolen had come in useful.

The lights still flickering, Peggy on one side, the shoe box on the other and the roll of cellotape now an unfashionable item of jewellery, she made her way back up the steps, sitting cross legged on the bed. Her daughter, just now learning to sit, was sitting with her, no longer crying, her back to Jemma’s torso, interested in what her mother was doing. She reached out, trying to grab at that unusual substance that her mother was wrapping around the box in front of her.

“It’s okay,” Jemma said, placing a kiss on her daughter’s head, “It’s keeping it safe.”

Peggy simply babbled back, taking an interest in what her mother was saying.

Then the door opened, and Jemma’s reactions kicked in quickly. The scalpel was pointed at her. Ward had left it there when he left. But it meant that she had something to defend herself and Peggy with. She had had a lot of time to practice. It was one of the doctors who worked there, holding a file. Peggy’s file.

“What are you…” Jemma began to ask, focusing her gaze intently on the woman standing there.

“It’s her file,” she replied, leaving it down on the closest flat surface and raising her arms as if to show that she had meant no harm. “I thought you would want it.”

“Do you have a family?” Jemma asked. “Do you have a husband? A daughter?”

The woman didn’t reply for a moment. Then she shook her head. “No, but my sister does.”

Jemma shook her head, laughing this time. “You know nothing then.”

“True. But what I do know is how much her daughter means to her. How much he means to her. This file,” she glanced down at the file, momentarily taking her eyes of the scalpel, “contains everything. We’ve lost her, and you know it. But take this if you don’t take our word for it.”

Her answer had Jemma’s mind spinning. “If you know just how much it means to her, then why did you let them keep me here?”

Before the reply came, a shouting voice interrupted them. “Hey Fitz! Bob! I think I found it!”

The scalpel feel on the floor. Footstep echoed, and entered the room. Three figures. Hunter, Bobbi and…

“Fitz,” Jemma breathed, unable to stop the tears of joy that were now flowing down her face. He had did it, he had found them. The Hydra doctor, seeing an opportunity, fled the room.

“Jems,” he replied, making his way up to her. She couldn’t move, she was frozen to the spot and as he moved closer, she moved slightly, so that Peggy was behind her. She knew that it was stupid, Fitz was her dad but 9 months in Hydra’s grasp, three of which with a young child really made you revaluate who you could trust. But this was Peggy’s father. She had to trust him, didn’t she?

He wrapped his arms around her when she reached her, placing a kiss on her forehead. Jemma allowed herself to be wrapped in his embrace, keeping Peggy close. She couldn’t help but sob into his chest. It had been so long since she had seen him, and she had missed him so much. She missed his warm embrace, the scent of his cologne. How when he whispered reassurances to her, just how much it calmed her, made her feel like everything was going to be okay.

When he pulled away, he knelt down beside her, his blue eyes twinkling and a smile gracing his face. It was probably the first one that he had worn in months. “Is this her?” he asked, a stupid and obvious question but she nodded, wiping away the tears with one sleeve. “Mine?” he asked and Jemma nodded again.

Fitz leaned back, allowing himself to cry. He had only found out that his child was a girl when they had stormed the base. He had, however, knew that Jemma had been pregnant. He had found out from the pregnancy test that she had wrapped up and left in their room. This was after she had been taken, and it made everything so much worse. And it had also fuelled his determination to help him get her back.

“Fitz, meet Peggy, Peggy meet your daddy.”

“Hiya,” Fitz cooed, extending one hand, and pretending to shake his daughter’s hand. He didn’t try to lift her, to hug her. He allowed for Jemma to hold her the whole time. He could see how tense his wife was, just how nervous she was. He knew that even though she could trust him, every maternal instinct would be screaming at her not to allow anything to happen to her daughter. So he would do whatever it took to allow Jemma to readjust to some normalcy. “Hiya.”

“Her middle name is Violet, after your mother. I knew that’s what you wanted.”

Fitz felt a warm glow inside of him. Jemma had always known that he would want to name his daughter after the one woman who had taken care of him his whole life. It meant a lot to him.

“Thank you,” he said, placing another kiss on her forehead.

Peggy reached out again, and started to playfully hit her father’s hand, her father who she was only just meeting with. She babbled playfully, giving a smile.

Jemma allowed her shoulders to relax slightly. “When do we leave?” she asked, wanting to know when they were getting out of here. “How did you get in here?”

Fitz smiled back in return, placing a kiss to her hand. He noticed that Hydra hadn’t taken the wedding ring and her engagement ring. The engagement ring had been in his family for so long now, and the wedding ring had been specially made for her. “We’ll get you out of here then I’ll say, okay?”

Jemma nodded, when Bobbi called up to him. “Wait!” she called after him, and he turned and headed back to her. She gave him a shoebox, with its lid cellotaped shut. “Give this to Hunter. Tell him to guard it with his life. And that file,” she said, gesturing to the file. Hunter reached for it, and she nodded.

Fitz didn’t say anything in reply, he didn’t have to. Jemma always knew what he was thinking, and she always would. He made his way down the stairs to Bobbi, passing Hunter the box who attempted to shove it into his backpack.

When he reached Bobbi, she drew him in closer. And told him nothing that he didn’t already know. That Jemma would probably not want to leave Peggy, that her level of trust would be very low at the moment. Fitz nodded, saying that he understood, to seem polite more than anything.

“Oi!” Hunter’s voice echoed across the room, and Jemma looked up from what she was doing. She was attempting to put a jacket on Peggy who really did not want a jacket put on her. “Princess! Wait,” he stopped. “Can I still call you that? Even with your daughter?”

Jemma scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Cause of Peggy. Wouldn’t that make you queen?”

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “For a British person, you have very little understanding of the monarchy.”

Hunter ignored her. “Did you want to know how we got in here?”

Jemma nodded back, now carrying Peggy down the stairs, preparing to move and to leave.

Hunter gave a lopsided grin. “Bobs and May called in a few favours.”

Before Jemma could ask what that meant, another figure appeared in the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things to list here;  
> 1) I need a middle name for Peggy, to be name after Fitz's mum, and thought I would leave it up to you guys to help decide on it, so feel free to comment any suggests that you may have! And I'll pick one from a hat!  
> 2) there are two great fics that you should read if this interests you, one being [ Whisper Words of Wisdom ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7155263) by [Inthemorninglight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inthemorninglight) which is an amazing Maveth AU I totally recommend, dealing with protective mother Jemma. The second is [ When a Good Woman Goes to War ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7063081) by [ AGL03 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AGL03/pseuds/AGL03). They are both great.  
> 3) I just want to say a massive thank you again. You guys mean so much to me, and I can't thank you enough when you read, leave kudos, bookmark, subscribe and leave comments on my stuff.


	3. Monkeys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long to get out, I really struggled to write this chapter and I wanted something that was kinda good than something rushed going up so I hope you enjoy this one! Sorry any inaccuracies, if anyone sees anything wrong please let me know, I have no knowledge of three month olds!

As the figure stepped forward, holstering their guns, she gasped. Jemma Simmons did not expect to see Natasha Romanoff standing there.

Jemma stared at her, trying to comprehend what was happening. Black Widow was standing there, making her way towards Jemma. And Peggy.

The Black Widow was making her way towards Jemma.

Jemma took a number of steps back, the back of her legs hitting the last step.

Natasha stopped, sensing Jemma’s unease. The assassin turned away from her, but not before smiling. “Bobbi,” she said to the blonde. “We can leave now. Wanda, Daisy and May are finishing off. Lincoln and Mack are Zephyr One. Waiting for us. We move out now.”

Bobbi nodded, reaching once more for her batons.

“Fitz,” Jemma whispered and her husband made his way towards her.

“Jem?” he asked her, standing close enough that he could talk to her but not too close so as to spook her. Peggy, now resting against Jemma’s chest, seemed to be asleep. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” she couldn’t find the words to describe just how she was feeling. What was racing through her mind. “There’s so… there’s too many people. I can’t…”

Fitz nodded, knowing what she meant. “Natasha and Bobbi are going to be lead, with Hunter behind us. It’s only a precaution. We kinda took back the base from Hydra.”

“You did?”

He nodded, and rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to show that taking back a Hydra base was not that big of a deal.

“Thanks you,” she breathed. “For rescuing me. For saving me.”

“Jems, what else was I supposed to do. I was _never_ going to leave you and Peggy trapped here. Never.”

She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

“Ready?” Natasha asked, not waiting for an answer and leaving the room, followed closely by Bobbi.

“Coming?” Fitz asked Jemma. She swallowed hard and nodded, finally leaving the place that had been her prison for the last nine months.

***

Once back on Zephyr One, Jemma took Peggy to the medical bay, leaving everyone behind her and locking the door. Curling up on the bed, Peggy resting beside her, she brushed the wisps of hair from her daughter’s face, wondering if she would inherit her father’s curls. She had already gotten his blue eyes.

“We’re safe Pegs,” she whispered to the young child. “We’re safe.” The words didn’t feel familiar to Jemma. And she knew they wouldn’t for a while. She herself wasn’t even sure that they were safe. Yes they were away from Hydra. But was that really safe? There would be so many people around her, around Peggy that didn’t know her. What she liked. Anything about her.

A sob escaped Jemma, so many months worth of emotions finally coming out. Peggy looked at her with wide blue eyes, and reached out towards her, her hand grabbing onto one of Jemma’s fingers.

Tears now flowing freely down Jemma’s face. “It’s okay, Pegs. Mummy’s okay. Everything… Everything will be okay.”

***

Bobbi had called a meeting to discuss Jemma and Peggy. Fitz sat anxiously in the corner, wringing his hands. He wanted to see his wife, his daughter but Jemma had locked the door, and wasn’t letting anyone in.

He was respecting her choice. He would always respect her choices but he just wished that she didn’t lock herself away like she so often did. He wished she wouldn’t force herself through this alone.

“How is she?” came Daisy’s voice, and knocking Fitz out of her thoughts.

Bobbi shrugged. “From what we’ve observed so far, there doesn’t seem to be any physical harm caused to either of them…”

“But?” Daisy asked, knowing that there was a but, knowing that there was something else that Bobbi seemed nervous to say.

“She’s scared, she was there for nine month, three of which were with Peggy.” Bobbi shook her head at this thought. “She’s terrified, her maternal instinct will be in overdrive…”

“So what do we do?” Daisy asked.

“We leave her alone, let her come to terms with it.” But it wasn’t Bobbi who spoke this time. Instead it was Natasha. She pushed herself of the wall and made her way into the centre of the room. “She needs this time alone, to come to terms with what has happened. If we push her before she’s ready, she’s only going to retreat further into herself, and it’ll take us longer.”

“Natasha’s right,” Fitz said, hating to agree but knowing that she was right. “We let her recover in her own time.”

***

Fitz passed the medical bay later that flight and found Jemma playing with Peggy, tickling her. His heart hurt, knowing that Jemma was suffering but was sitting putting on a happy face for her, their daughter.

Against his better judgement, he knocked on the window.

Jemma turned her head so she was looking at him, and a smile passed across her face, though it reached her eyes, there was still fear in them. She beckoned him into the room and whispered something into Peggy’s ear.

Entering the room, he kept on hand behind his back and sat in the chair beside her bed. Peggy beamed up at him, as if already knowing who he was.

“She likes you,” Jemma said. “The only other person she’s gotten on with is me. I refused to let Ward, anyone else near her.” She shakes her head. “She must know who you are.”

Fitz smiled at this. “’Course she does. She got your brains.”

This got a laugh out of her. Fitz knew that there was still a long way to go but this was something. “She also got your brains. And eyes. And possibly hair.”

Fitz takes a closer look at his daughter, who is trying to reach for him. He looks at Jemma, who nods, giving him permission, and reaches out with his hand. Peggy instinctively grabs it, running her fingers over his hands, worn and calloused by years of working. “She has your nose,” he comments, Peggy looking up at him, excited at hearing his voice.

“You think so?” Jemma asked.

“Yeah, it’s definitely yours.” A pause and then. “I got her this.” He revealed what he had been holding. A stuffed monkey. “I got it, when I found out you were… after you were taken. I wanted it to be her first toy, to be there for the birth. I should have been there... Her first thing. Jemma, I am so sorry. We… I didn’t… You shouldn’t have been there. You shouldn’t…” He couldn’t speak. Find the words. “Jems, I am so sorry.” He passed her the monkey, setting it in her lap.

Jemma reached out, taking the hand that Peggy wasn’t still playing with. “Fitz, none of this, none of this is your fault. Please,” she shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Please.”

He nodded, if not for himself, but for her. He cupped her cheek. “Now, do we have a name for the monkey?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I myself am not a big fan of it, it feels more of a filler chapter than anything else so I may come back and edit it. Thanks for checking out!

**Author's Note:**

> I am just a sucker for superpowered Jemma, it is my weakness. It's just my favourite thing! This won't be updated for another week and a half/two weeks, until everything in my life settles down slightly. But thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little tease. I have most of the plot scribbled down in a notebook, so there is a plot for this, and I have most everything worked out there, just no other chapters written. Many thanks again. Marvel owns all, and title comes from the Doctor Who Demon's Run poem.


End file.
